Aggression

There's nothing quite like a good, aggressive fuck session when it's been days. Nothing like the feeling of anticipation when it's not yet private time, when you still have dinner and family time to get through before the fucking can occur.

Nothing like: 

Having three layers of clothing stripped from your lower half in one fell swoop so that the impact of a hand slamming into your ass will be better felt.
That first impact, the sting after months of no slapping at all.
The sudden warmth that makes those three layers hardly missed at all.
The awareness of the incredible amounts of wetness when his fingers slide through your labia, seeking exactly what they've found.
So much arousal from so much time spend waiting for this moment.
The feeling of that cock sliding home from behind in spoons position, sliding all the way in until it's actually a bit too much and then just a tiny bit further than that.
Absolute fullness and then the motion. Holy fuck the motion. Just a gentle shoving in, in, in.
Pulling away, on your hands and knees, begging to be fucked doggy style and then the even bigger cock now it's got some gravity behind it. Holy fuck there's no way that's ever going to work - but it does.

And then his hands in your hair, pushing your face into the bed while you scream. His hands, somehow multiplied, everywhere at once, pulling you into him by the hips and pushing your head, your shoulder, your lower back holy fuck that's delicious, everywhere all the while his cock is shoving in, in, in, in and it's so unutterably big and all you can do is scream into the bed for the amazing eternity of this fuck.


Nothing like it.

Step 1: Flog and spank the slave girl

"Hit me with this," I ask him, handing him a new style of flogger I've just made. I always ask him to hit me with the new types so I know what they feel like before I try to describe them to other people.

He hits me with it. It's small,  but heavy, and packs a whallop. Kind of like a fist, the heavy loops of rope pound but don't sting like some other loopy ones I've made, though there is a little tiny bit of sting to it on some strokes. He keeps hitting my back with it - it feels like a deep tissue massage and I groan repeatedly.

"Enough?" he asks, as I grunt into the pillow.

"Mmf," I answer.

He puts it away, hanging it with the others in the flogger closet, and retrieves our blue silky one from behind the bed.

This one. 

"What you doing?" I ask. I'm exhausted; I haven't moved from my position diagonally across the bed.

"While I have you here," he says, still standing up next to the bed. He shoves my nightshirt up, exposing the skin of my back and my ass. The silky blue-and-white falls land on my back, the softness of the ends trails over my skin.

"How does this one compare?" he asks.

"It's heavy too," I say, "but no sting." I am purring into the pillow as he lands stroke after stroke on my body. I jump a little now and then but mostly I'm just happy. My tensions melt away. I feel amazing and very close to sleep. He climbs atop me, facing my feet, and gives love to my feet and calves. He shoves my legs wider apart on the bed, but just to get better access to stroke me. His foot is near my head and I stroke his calf, but I'm tired and my hand just winds up resting on his leg while I purr at how he is making me feel.

He moves after some long time spend lavishing affection on my lower legs. I realize that he's still standing and I'm in his spot. "You want me to move?" I ask him drowsily.

"Hmm. Yes, I do," he answers. I pull myself into a straighter line, moving away from his side of the bed and turning my back to him. He gets into bed behind me and his hand smacks my ass loudly. I squeal because I wasn't expecting that. He spanks me repeatedly, over and over.  "You should take better care of yourself," he mutters, referencing a cold sore that's beginning to emerge on my lip.

"I only just saw it!" I murmur.

"Well then what am I supposed to spank you for?" He waits a beat, his hand rubbing the warming flesh of my ass, and then he lifts his hand and smacks me again. I purr. "Oh, that's right," he continues, "I don't have to have a reason."

"If you want one there are plenty," I say, raising my ass slightly into his hand. I am referring to my previous post and the misunderstanding there.

"That's not really your fault," he says. He keeps spanking me though, because he doesn't need a reason. His hand smacks me over and over and I am really, really loving it because it's been a while since we had such an extended session.

"There's not much fight in me," I murmur. I'm so tired and he feels so good. I feel like I might just fall asleep.

"That's okay," he whispers into my ear. His voice sends jolts through my body and I shiver. I do so love when he speaks in my ear like that...

"You feel my cock?" he asks. He is so hard, and humping slightly against my arm. I can definitely feel it. I move my hand to stroke against it, turn toward him, curl into his arms.

"Yes sir," I answer, nuzzling my face into his shoulder. His hand tightens into my hair, pulling my face into him so closely I can barely breathe. I moan happily.

He has started Step 2: Drive the slave girl into crazed arousal.

Vulnerable

He's pulled me close to him and my face is buried against his chest. His fingers encircle my wrist, pull my arm up over my head, and with his other hand he touches the areas left exposed by this position - my sensitive armpit, the inner part of my upper arm. I gasp with pleasure, every breath I take a shuddery one as he traces tingles into my flesh.

"So sensitive," he whispers as he touches me, as his fingers glide gently over these areas that rarely get touched.

"So delicate. So vulnerable," he says, making my breath catch.

He hears my breath catch, draws the moment out as he draws his fingers down my skin. "There's a part of me," he says, his voice even lower, close to a growl, "that wants to beat you here."

I gasp. I don't think he's ever said something so inherently sadistic. I feel my entire body sort of melt against him.

"Now why would I want a thing like that?" he asks. His fingers are still stroking me, skimming over my armpit. "When I can just stroke you gently here and make you shiver?"

"Because you're a sadist," I whisper, and even my whisper trembles.

"Hmm, I suppose I am," he says. "You know I'm not just doing this to make you feel good, right?" he says as his touch elicits a sigh of pleasure from me. "Why do you think I'm doing this?"

"You can do anything you want," I answer.

"Mmm... I believe that's the answer I was looking for. Because I fucking can," he says, and draws his hand back slightly. I brace for the impact but it doesn't come, and he resumes stroking me. "You afraid of me, girl?" he asks.

"No sir," I whisper. There's fear of what it might feel like, when he succumbs to his desire. But not fear of him.

"Maybe you should be," he says. He's still stroking my delicate skin. "This is to show you who's in control here. Who's in control here, my girl?"

"You are," I breathe out. I am so wet that as I shiver against him, I feel the moisture between my legs.

"Good girl," he says. "I'm going to beat you here, you know." His fingers leave goosebumps behind. It's impossible to imagine the slender, loving fingers that are making me feel so good dealing out the kind of pain he's talking about. He strokes until he finds the most sensitive part of my arm, the place that really makes me tremble. "Right here," he says, stroking that spot, so I know. "I'm going to beat you. Right. Here."

He draws his hand back and slaps my most sensitive spot, just above my armpit. I squeal - it stings unbelievably. It hurts so much. I jerk, but he's got my wrist. I'm trapped there, open, vulnerable, helpless. His slave. At the end of my squeal, I kiss his chest - an unexpected, unplanned reaction to the pain. He slaps me, I kiss him.

He slaps me again, higher, on the inner part of my upper arm. That hurts even more. I writhe against him, pull at my wrist, but he keeps it in place. I scream as low as I can manage, and again, my lips kiss him. Gratitude for his gift.

"This is all well and good, this touching you and beating you, but I think I'm missing something. Do you know what that could be?" I can feel his cock, hard and insistent against the hand that he doesn't have trapped.

"No sir," I murmur.

He leans down and kisses me, his lips soft and tender, my head having to lean way back to meet his lips. It's erotic. He slaps my breast while we're kissing, right on the nipple. I yelp against his lips, and find the entire thing even more erotic. I am so ready for fucking. He slaps my inner arm again and it feels like someone set off fireworks in it. Oh, it hurts. I kiss down his chest to his cock.

"Oh, that's right," he says as I lick the head of his cock. "I can touch you," and he takes his cock in his hand and rubs it over my lips. "I can beat you," and he uses his cock to slap my face, twice. "And I can fuck you," he finishes, shoving his cock between my lips.

His other hand still holds my wrist captive, and as he fucks into my face, he slaps my armpit again. "Keep sucking that cock, girl," he says, and slaps my arm and my armpit until it all feels raw and open. I am squealing with pain, but I keep sucking. "Good girl," he says, "good girl. You keep sucking."

His fingers stroke my flesh delicately and even that gentle touch makes me whimper. "Oh, does it hurt, girl?" he says. I manage to make a positive noise. He slaps my breast now instead, still fucking into my face. "Just keep sucking, girl."

I do, oh, I do. My armpit and upper arm are on fire, my breast feels stung, but I suck as if my life depended on it, even when I am struggling for breath to deal with the pain.

He rolls on top of me, his knees on either side of my head, my hand still up above my head. I can see the tiny broken blood vessels and bruises on my upper arm. My head swims with pain and desire. I am so wet.

"Your pussy might like to be fucked," he says, sliding his cock back into my mouth. I suck for all I am worth. My legs spread themselves wide, but I keep sucking his cock. It's hard to give up fucking in one place - a reality - for the idea of fucking in another. My pussy wants him, but my mouth doesn't want to give him up. He fucks my face, and my free arm wraps around him, pulling him into me. He hasn't hit me in a while, but my armpit still burns.

He pulls his cock out, rubs it against my face, moves up so I can suck his balls. He's looking down at me. "Good fuck hole," he murmurs as my mouth gently wraps around and sucks his balls. He moves again, to slide his cock back down into my face. His hand is on the back of my head, holding me up even higher than I can on my own to allow for greater penetration. "Your pussy gets wet for a reason, you know," he whispers down at me. I am grunting, growling, moaning around his cock. It's so huge and hard and it feels amazing right now, fucking my face. My pussy is spread and wanting, but my mouth doesn't care.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck ohfuckohfuck," he says, and he is coming into my face, spurts sliding easily down my throat. I swallow it all.

I keep sucking and licking. His cock stays impossibly hard for a long time, and I lick, suck, and stroke it the entire time. He acts as though he wants to move. "I'll stop any time you want me to," I remind him, my voice husky from the use my throat has just received.

"It's hard," he says.

"No it's not," I laugh, because by now it has softened a little.

He rolls over next to me. "You broke me," I whisper, speaking of the broken blood vessels in my arm.

He looks at it, sees the red splotches and the bruises. "Is that all it takes to break you now?"

I thrill inside. "You're a sadist," I murmur.  His fingers slide between my folds, and at his first touch, somewhere between my opening and my clit, I moan, a deep, pleased moan. His fingers slide around a little, and I keep groaning. I am so so sensitive, all the places he touches me feel incredible.

"Is that pain?" he asks, as I keep moaning.

"No sir," I answer.

"Good girl. Such a little slut," he says.

"Nuh-uh, I'm yours."

"You are a slut. Did you see yourself with my cock?"

"I'm yours," I groan. His fingers make it hard to have this conversation.

"Mmm, so you're not a slut, you're my own personal fuck hole?" he asks.

"ohhh yes sir," and now his words are thrilling me as much as his fingertips. I roll my hips into his touch, and I groan.

"Just for me to fuck wherever I like," he continues in my ear. "Anytime, any way, any how."

He makes me come, and again, and again. I am helpless, and sweaty, and his. He's amazing.

He holds me close and whispers, "You're amazing. How did I get so lucky?"

I'm amazing, he says.

We're both pretty fucking lucky.

The Cure

I am highly, highly oversexed. I don't like that word because it makes it sound like I have too much sex, when in fact what it means is there is no such thing for me. I think about sex constantly. I may stop thinking about it for a minute or two at a time, but thinking about sex is my general state of being.

It's only natural that when the time allowed me, I'd start writing it too.

Being monogamously married to and owned by a man I adore is wonderful, but it sometimes carries a woeful amount of misunderstandings with it.

I get sad when we are not having some kind of sex at least every day. I'd prefer multiple times. We compromise and I think we're both pretty happy with where things are. Sometimes, though, life gets in the way for a day or two (or God forbid three or four) and it just doesn't happen. Sadness overtakes me then. I'm still thinking about sex all the time, but not having any, and I feel pathetic and undesirable. Things I could normally get through give me difficulty. Lethargy sets in, I feel depressed, I wonder what the point is to anything. Even through the fog of sadness I still read and think about sex, which just fuels the depression but isn't something I can shut off.

So he senses my sadness, or in some cases, he outright sees it. I cry easily and am overwhelmed by parts of life I should have under control. I lie awake well into the early morning, unable to fall asleep. He sees these things and he holds me, comforts me. Herein lies the miscommunication. He sees his girl sad and laden with woe and, not being turned on by sadness, he holds her through yet another sexless night. I feel even more worthless because the one thing I want is being retarded by my very reaction to not getting it. I despair, sunk deep in the self-digging hole.

I tell him this, trying to shine a tiny light of knowledge up at him from the bottom of my pit. I tell him that the words he once spoke to me years ago echo in my head, making me keep my silence. "It's hard to want a girl who's sad all the time."

By some miracle, he gets it. Not immediately, but quickly, after I choke back a sob to tell him that that's a self-digging hole. I start to say something else, but his palm is pressing on my face, pressing against my nose, covering my mouth. I moan. His hand moves, pressing against the other side of my nose, squeezing my face. "You were going to say, girl?" he asks, and his voice has changed. The solicitousness is gone, and in its place is a rough, dark rasp. His legs are none too gentle with mine as he yanks them apart.

His feet dig into my calf as he pulls my legs open, and it hurts. "Ouch!" I say, but my thoughts are already captured in the present moment as he climbs between my legs. There is no room for sadness in the suddenly electric atmosphere he has created. If he's acting, he's very good at it.

"You were going to say, girl?" he asks again, his hand pressing all over my face, tangling in my hair, tugging it until I gasp with the sheer joy of it.

"N-nothing," I gasp.

He's moved across me now, on my other side. So much of what happens is a glorious, glorious blur. He's spanking me, his hand delivering sharp stinging blows to my backside. He buries the whole of the thenar and a good chunk of the thumb of his free hand in my mouth, and I am biting down into it, screaming into his hand while he tortures my nipples.

"Do you just have nothing to say when your body is being slowly reduced," he pauses to hurt me more, to make me scream louder into the amazingly effective gag that is his hand, "mmmm... being reduced to fuck meat?"

I scream. The hand not in my mouth is touching my pussy, my clit. "Fuck meat," he said, and I scream and scream and scream. It's primal, what those words are doing to me, and I can't properly record anything before or after the ground zero of those words. That moment is shining and brilliant and all the other bits around it, amazing though they are, fade.

He makes me come. "Oh, it's been far too long since you've come for me," he says. "You're going to do that now, aren't you, fuck toy? You're going to come for your master now." My head is slowly arching back away from him as he talks, as his fingers work their magic on my sex. It feels to me like the whole thing happens in slow motion, as my body tenses and I am crying out, all the tension releasing as I come and come and come. My legs shake against him. "Oh look at you, no self-control at all," he says, and he is right. He controls me. He makes me come again, tugging my head backwards by the hair until my groans of delight deepen into guttural grunts. I am bent very far back when he finally lets go.

He won't fuck me with his cock. He suggests it, he teases, he makes fun of me, makes me beg. "Look at you. Why would I give you my cock now? In the state you're in you'd never give it back. Would you?"

I moan my negative response, tossing my head as his fingers fuck me.

"See. I'd never get my cock back. What does that make you?"

I don't answer immediately because I am screaming. He teases me to orgasm with his words. "A slut," I answer, my voice cracking because I have reservations about calling myself that.

"My slut," he clarifies, and he is kissing me.

Finally I have begged prettily enough, and he is atop me sliding his cock inside. I groan as he fills me. He feels amazing. I fuck him from beneath, just really driven wild by everything that has happened so far.

I'm falling. I'm falling, I'm flying, into an abyss and he's holding me there under him by my hair. That must be why he's pulling it so hard. His kisses are hot and urgent and he is forcing me to stay there when I would float away. I hear my own screams as if from a distance and I want to be in this moment - this moment - forever. My head is spinning, my sense of balance is all out of whack, and he just keeps driving his cock into me, drawing the screams from me with every thrust and every tug of my hair.

"I think it's your turn," he says. "I think you should get on top of me and fuck me."

"Anything you want," I gasp out breathlessly, unable to really catch up to the situation. A whole lot of delicious things have whizzed by me that I couldn't fully assimilate. Mostly fantastically dirty things he has said that made me scream in the moment but are now lost forever because my brain is overloaded. I'll take it though.

"That's right," he says, "anything I want." He rolls off me onto his back, waiting.

I dive after his cock with my mouth. It tastes sweet and salty and I moan as I lick it all over.

"Oooh, I didn't say you could suck the cock," he admonishes me. "But I suppose you're just a cocksucker who couldn't resist, huh?" I give his cock a long swirling suck for answer as I pull my mouth away, and then I am lifting my leg over him.

"Oh yes, give me that pussy," he says as I lower myself onto him, as his cock presses up into me. He grabs my hips and I scream. His hardness has never felt like this before. "I think you know what to do," he growls as I begin to slowly rotate my hips, gasping as I feel all the new sensations that changing positions like this causes.

It really doesn't take long before it starts to feel amazing. His hands are on my hips and when I start to scream he keeps moving me the way I was moving before. I am screaming, he is moaning deeply, and we are coming at the same time.

I lay on his chest for long, long minutes afterward, kissing his neck and shoulders, rotating my hips against him, listening to his soft sounds of pleasure as we both catch our breath.

After I roll off into his arms, I kiss him again, softly and with great respect and tenderness. "Thank you for rescuing me, sweet master," I whisper against his lips.

He's already half asleep, but he squeezes me tightly against him. "Love my girl," he answers.

Upping the ante, part 2

The first half is here

I don't know if I growled when he directed me to suck his cock, but something inside me did. I felt another rush of wetness between my legs and I attacked his mouth, kissing him like he was my air. As I kissed down his chest, he rolled onto his back. Ahhh, so it was going to be like that. I settled between his legs then, and I did growl a little as I slowly sucked on his balls, watching his cock bounce and listening to his noises of pleasure. "Oh yeah, that feels good," he murmured.

I licked from his balls up the underside of his cock before I finally sucked the length of him in, relishing the moment, hearing his moan of appreciation as my tongue rubbed all over, as I took him as deeply into my throat as the position allowed. His legs were over my shoulders, his feet resting on my back as I held him in my throat until I started shaking. When I pulled away I sucked in air loudly for a long time.

"My girl has a good fuck hole in her face, doesn't she?" he asked as I sucked him down again. I moaned an affirmative around the cock filling my mouth. "But sometimes she needs to remember that's her air hole too, I think." He grabbed my head then, held it still while he fucked into me. I squealed around it with excitement. It's so easy to forget how very fucking much I love this when I'm not actively doing it, but holy shit this was amazing.

Then he was pulling my hair, using it as a handle to move my head up and down on his cock, pushing me down as his cock penetrated my throat as far as it could, holding me, holding me, until my feet shook, and then letting me up for air. Oh God this is so fucking hot, I thought to myself as I sucked in air. He let go, let me move on him on my own, and when I had taken him right into my throat, his legs tightened around my head, holding me in place. I shook, unable to make a sound but so incredibly excited by the whole business that I just knew my wetness was seeping out. I squeezed his legs even tighter around my head with my hands. He finally opened his thighs and let me move again, letting the noises he'd made me want to make come out.

We went on like that for what seemed like a long, long time. I was taking a breather, rubbing my cheek and lips against his cock, sliding my tongue along it until I had enough oxygen to take it in my throat again.

"I want you to get up here on top of me," he growled.

I trembled, and pulled my face away from his cock, starting to slide up his body. But as my breasts brushed his erection, still slick with my saliva, his knees locked around my midsection, stopping my upward advance. His hands moved to my breasts, pushing them around his slick cock, and he started to fuck them, squeezing them firmly, making me moan. I lowered my head to suck his cock when it advanced between my breasts. He was enjoying himself, letting me suck as he fucked me, making lots of pleased noises. "This isn't quite what I meant when I told you to get on top of me," he said, not stopping.

"You stopped me," I pulled my mouth away from him just long enough to whisper, noting as I returned to his cock that his thighs were still tight around my midsection, that his hands were still gripping my breasts, holding me in place.

"So I did," he said, enjoying himself for a bit longer before he finally stopped. "Get up here," he said, tugging on my hair. "I want you to fuck me with your pussy the way you fuck me with your mouth."

Well I don't know if that's even possible, but I understood the gist of what he was saying as I straddled him, my knees out to either side of us. I gasped as I moved over his erection, feeling the slick heat of him touching my folds. I rocked against him, letting his hardness press me open. The head lodged just inside me and I groaned, gently rotating my hips.

"You afraid of my cock?" he asked, as I was taking my time about settling lower.

"Nuh-uh," I said, enjoying the feel of him throbbing there inside me. I settled lower, taking him all the way, leaning forward over his chest, my clit rubbing against his pubic bone as I slowly rocked. He kissed me, I was gasping into his mouth with the intensity of the position, my clit, the size of him stretching me open, his mouth. Supporting myself on my arms became more difficult, but I kept rocking.

The sensations were overwhelming. "You getting tired, girl?" he asked, as I was panting, gasping for breath, but not from exertion. I was close, and I held still because that's how I respond to impending orgasm - try to stop it. He slapped my ass. "Fuck that cock, girl," he ordered, and I moved. The insides of my knees were brushing against the soft coolness of our bamboo sheets as I rocked on him, and that sensation is the one that's always managed to push me over the edge in the past - my legs moving like that, feeling so completely out of control - but he was still slapping my ass, making me move. Those two things combined really left me no choice.

"Good girl, good girl," he said as I panted,  starting to cry out. "Come for me, girl!" he ordered as I moaned deeply, still rocking on him. "Fucking come for me." I cried out several times, pulsing, my hair having long since become a sweaty curtain around my face. I stopped again, resting my forehead against him, repositioning my knees so I could lift my hips rather than rock.

It's still a rocking motion, but with more of a thrust to it, and he was sliding in and out of me as I moved, rocking up and down against him. His breathing quickened and he clutched me as he pulsed inside me. "Good, good girl," he whispered as we kissed afterward. "Mine," he said, wrapping me in his arms and legs after he allowed me to roll off him.

Cue happy lovey-dovey pillow talk here, followed by amazing sleep.

---

Several things going on in these posts:

He slaps my face with the spoon. With the spoon. I loved it. It made me feel....oh, it just made me feel. It made me aware, and I knew he was paying very close attention to what he was doing. Oh, fuck.

He's paying attention to what I'm wearing. Seriously, he gives a fuck? Yeah, I hear you all going "That's really a no-brainer," but... honestly, he's just never seemed to give a damn. If I'm wearing something easy-access he's for it, but otherwise he just wants it gone.

He puts me wherever the hell he wants me. Yes.

He's very very good at this. We're gliding along the path pretty well most of the time, and we're enjoying the hell out of each other, but once in a while he ups the ante just a little - just enough for me to know he's paying attention and gives a damn.

He tells me no one would be interested in our story because there's not enough conflict in it.

I love our story because any time there is a conflict, it gets evaporated by the twin barrels of perseverance and communication.

Belted, flogged, fucked

My Christmas spanking went on forever. His hand smacked into my backside until I was tender, crying out, protesting with each blow.

"It hurts," I begged.

 "Hmmm.. you're right. My hand does hurt," he murmured, and rummaged in the drawer for something. I felt the cool faux leather of his old belt brush against my heated skin and I inhaled sharply, anticipating the blow that was to come to my already tenderized flesh. It did not disappoint. I yelped loudly as it smashed against me.

"Oh my God, it hurts so much," I whimpered as he kept striking my ass and the backs of my thighs with the belt. I squirmed. I wanted it over and I didn't want it over at all. I wanted it to go on forever but I thought that might just destroy me.

"Poor thing," he whispered, giving me a break, smoothing his hand gently over my heated bottom. I gasped as even his gentle touch hurt. A flogger, then, glorious and soft and cool, draping over my burning rear, trailing its tiny knots up my back. Oh, it felt amazing, soothing my pain as it settled from a fiery burning sting to a deep ache.

"Ahhhhhhh," I breathed out with relief, and then he was flogging me. Smack, swish, smack. Oh, that felt divine too, the softness of the cold rope falls thudding into and gliding over my hot skin, my legs, my back. I was squirming in an altogether different way, presenting my ass to him and writhing in sheer pleasure as long soft moans of delight came from me.

"Turn over," he ordered after a long time of this.

I moaned at the thought of putting weight on my back and ass, but I did it. My bottom complained, but it settled to a dull roar as my husband began to flog my breasts. Oh. Yes, I like that. My body surged up into the blows, offering my breasts to the lash of the flogger each time it retreated. My mouth was open, a stream of delighted gasps and pleased moans issuing from it. I was on, all right.

Suddenly, he was on top of me, and his cock was sliding into my extremely wet pussy. I groaned as his hardness filled up all the space inside me, and he thrust down into me a few times, making me clench around him and purr with the delicious feeling of being impaled.

He withdrew far too soon, though, and slid up my body to slide his cock into my mouth, letting me taste my own arousal on his skin. I was out of my mind with want, and I sucked on him fervently. But then he was gone. He was sitting on my midsection, and I heard sounds. My head was still tossed back, my eyes squeezed shut - wet sounds were coming from him, but he wasn't moving.

Oh, God, what is he doing? I thought to myself, and slowly, slowly, I moved my head to look at him.

He was straddling my midsection, slowly masturbating his hard cock. The wet sounds were the moisture from my body on his cock as his foreskin slid over the shaft. "What if I just sit here and masturbate? What will you do?"

I groaned, twisting beneath him, mouth open, tilting my hips up more. I thrashed. There was no way I could get to his cock with any part of me, the way he was sitting.

"I see. You'll go crazy. Which part of you should I fuck?" he asked deliberately, still sliding his foreskin over the head of his cock. "Does your mouth want it more? Or your pussy?"

"I don't care, I just want it in me," I panted, and even as I spoke he was sliding down between my legs.

"Was that an order? I don't take orders so well, you know." He nudged the head of his cock against my sex, letting it slip inside just a very little bit.

"God, no, please... please fuck me," I begged, tilting my hips up to him.

"That's better," he whispered, letting his cock press all the way into me. "Good fuck toy," he said, a groan from him indicating how good it felt, even as I was gasping with the sensations flooding me.

A blur. Moving, sighing, whispered words of pleasure, love, dominance. Oh, it felt amazing.

After he was finished, his fingers found their way inside me and I was screaming. Screaming, as he said "Come for me, yes, good girl, come for me - merry Christmas, fuck hole."

Over and over. Until I was begging for him to stop, for the pleasure to end. Begging, because I was exhausted, soaked with sweat, and sore. My muscles vibrated with the intensity of the repeated release.

But "lots of orgasms" is what I asked for.

He does love to give me what I want.

Two for one

"Your nipples are sensitive and need toughening." It started as a joke, we were reading The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty, and that's a line in the novel. His fingers began toying with my nipples as we continued reading our chapters, making me squirm long before we put the book down.

When we did, his fingers began tracing delicate trails all over my back before I could turn over. His beard brushed against my lower back, his hands exploring my ass. "It's been a long time since your body's been properly touched."

He touched my back until I was purring with pleasure, and then he pulled out a wooden ruler and began to spank me with it. "You're getting nice and red back here," he said, and switched implements.

Something unfamiliar, painful, hard but bouncy. "What IS that?" I asked, already a little foggy with desire.

"What is this? Hm. I think it's commonly called a belt. How does it feel?"

"I like it," I gasped out between cries. It hurt, deep, thudding pain with a sting in the head, but it was good, like deep tissue massage. I could not hold still as he applied it to my rear, though. I squirmed and wiggled and lifted my ass and lowered it again - but he kept right on.

He switched implements again - the braided flogger, snapping across my back and across the places on my ass where he'd been belting me. It felt much like the belt, with more texture. I gasped as it landed over my back, raising my ass to provide a better target.

He knocked my knees apart roughly, and started spanking my sensitive inner thighs. I was still on all fours, a new position for this sort of spanking, and I cried out over and over. He wasn't playing around, his hand smacked roughly into my flesh and I gasped and cried out and he mocked me. My pussy was already spread and helpless from the position so when he started spanking it, I was even more sensitive. I squirmed and panted and little screams came out of me. Oh, hell, my clit, the position made my clit more sensitive and more involved in the spanking, oh, hell.

His fingers spread me open, finding my wetness. "Oh, wow. I think someone likes being used, being beaten... being touched. Does this feel good, slut?" he asked, his finger slowly circling my clit.

"Uh-huh," I moaned, squirming.

"I didn't realize we'd moved on to the feeling good portion. I thought we were still in the pain portion," he said, pulling his hand away, looking for something. "Oh, wait, there's no difference, is there?"

"No," I whispered.

"Well, no difference for you.. I suppose if I asked you to pleasure me, you'd know not to hurt me, wouldn't you?"

"Yes sir."

"Good girl. You like everything, don't you my girl? I can think of something else you might like." He reached across me, his arm across my lower back holding me down, and lubricated my ass. He slid the mood naughty plug into me as I writhed. "Take it, girl," he whispered as he pressed it all the way in.

"Turn and face me," he said then.

I did, exclaiming as I rolled toward the lamp. My hair was all over my face at this point, but the light was still bright.

"Is the light too bright for you, fuck toy?"

"Mmhmm," I murmured, trying to duck my head close to his chest.

"But I want to look at you. You don't mind if I look at you, do you, fuck toy?"

"No sir." I shuddered as the words left me.

"But... it might be nice to switch to candlelight," he conceded, and leaned over to light a candle.

When he turned back over, he seized on my breasts and nipples. Breast torture. Oh, the most divine torture ever. His mouth, sucking hard, biting at my nipples in the most exquisite ways, tugging, pulling, squeezing. I swear I could have come from that given enough time. I started humping at him, instinct controlling my movements.

"Do you want me to fuck you while I torture your breasts?"

"Uh-huh.."

"Do you want me to fuck you while you have a plug in your ass while I torture your breasts?"

"Uh huh..."

On top of me. "Oh, my, slut, you're so wet."

"No room," I panted as he nudged his way inside me, the plug in my ass making it harder, making me cry out.

"Oh, there's plenty of room, it just slides right in there..."

---

He pulled away a little, started moving with short quick strokes just barely into me. I groaned.

"Oh, God, what are you doing?" I begged, arching up, wanting to feel him driving deeply inside.

"You want more cock, girl?"

"Yes," I panted, struggling to lift my hips higher, to take more of him.

"Better beg for it then." He continued fucking just the head of his cock into me.

"Oh, fuck, please, please," I was babbling, no proper method of begging existing in my brain at that moment, "please, want more cock, please, please."

"You want more cock?"

"Yes, please, please."

"Where?"

"In my pussy, please, please!" I was writhing desperately, my hands clutching at his hips, trying to pull him into me.

"Mmm, okay, girl. Have more cock. In your pussy." He drove into me fully then, grinding, my clit throbbing between us as we moved. I gasped.

---

He grabbed my hair, two big handfuls on each side of my head, and pulled it up diagonally away from my head, effectively holding my head in place in the center. I felt stretched, pinned, helpless.

When he kissed me, his cock still driving, his hands still keeping up the pressure on my hair, I felt like I was flying away - or falling. Or both all at once. I screamed against his mouth, uncontrollably, kissing him back and screaming as I flew and fell and flew.

---

He was finished, and he rolled off me. His fingers began to pleasure me - inside, against my clit. Orgasm.

Again.

Again.

"Oh, wow, you are completely out of control, aren't you? You just keep coming.. I don't think you could stop if you tried."

Again.

Again.

Screaming, writhing under his touch, wanting it to end and wanting it to never, ever end, the waves of pleasure that kept crashing over me taking my breath away and leaving me wanting more, more, more.

He rolled atop me, and I gasped with surprise as his cock plunged inside me again. "Oh my God..."

His kisses sent me spiraling again, as he took his pleasure with me a second time. "You don't mind if I fuck you some more now, do you?" he asked roughly, as if I had a choice in the matter. I quivered internally at the entire situation.

He took his time this time too, extracting the maximum amount of pleasure for both of us.

We lay exhausted afterward, his body wrapped around me in my husband-cage, holding me tightly to him. "You belong to me," he said softly, a touch of wonder mingled with the matter-of-factness of his tone.

"I know," I murmured happily, settling as closely in to him as I could before we fell asleep.

Say thank you

12:45 AM. What the hell? How? A chat with a good friend, a project to complete, lots of wonderful emails to respond to, and a bath. That's how. Time just flies away when you're mixing work and pleasure so very thoroughly.

Climbing into bed with my husband, I was a little put-out. Just a little. He'd coaxed me out of bed in the late morning with an implication we would go back to bed in the afternoon, and it hadn't happened. "In the interest of open communication," I told him as I cleaned up the bathroom vanity and then climbed in next to him, "when you coax a girl out of bed with promises of going to bed later, not going to bed later is going to lead to a discontented girl."

I wouldn't have even been put out if it was earlier, and of course the lateness of the hour was not entirely his fault, although he did nothing to stop my mad typing in the late evening. He is meant to be the one making the command decisions.

He drew me close to him, spooning me with his arm draped around me, and I started playing a game on my Kindle Fire. No tech in the bedroom has been suffering due to my cold - so I just started playing. Fruit Ninja. I assumed he would go to sleep. He didn't. His hand started to slowly, slowly squeeze a nipple until I was gasping in pain, and then he moved to the other one.

"What are you doing?" I squeaked, as he squeezed it hard and moved back to the first one.

"Playing with you," he said blithely, alternating slow painful squeezes with hard, sharp, twisting ones as he moved between my nipples. I was still trying to play. "I bet it makes it hard to slice fruit," he observed as I gasped. Eventually I let the Kindle drop to the bed and I gave myself to the sensations he was causing. God, I love when he hurts my nipples. I raised my arm over my head to provide better targets, breathing through it as he slowly, slowly, slowly squeezed. Through pleasure and into pain that was just a more intense pleasure and I was panting. I could feel myself getting wet just from this.

His hand moved and he slapped my ass, hard. Oh, that's been a while. Pain, spanking, oh, fuck, yes. Who cares how late it is? I rolled over enough to offer my ass up for more, and he gave it. He was landing hard smacks that resonated deep into my being, making me groan because they were so delicious and shook my very bones. "Good girl," he said, and tugged on my shoulder to pull me back onto my side, so he could access my nipples again. He alternated between smacking my ass and slowly pinching my nipple then, until I was groaning near-constantly, my breath coming in short sharp pants.

He pulled me onto my back and then he was smacking me right on my nipples, back and forth between them. "Oh my God," I cried out, far too loudly, arching up into his smacks. Oh, so good. So fucking good.

He yanked my legs apart and then he was smacking me on my inner thighs.

It's been weeks since I've been hit anywhere but on the nipples, and I was super-sensitive to it all, the thighs most of all. I cried out. "Oh my God, that hurts, that hurts, it's sensitive," I panted as I struggled to keep my legs open.

"Is my girl sensitive?" he asked mockingly, knowing that I was, not caring, knowing that it turned me on like a faucet. "Does it hurt when I hit you here?" he asked, slapping my right inner thigh several times.

"God, yes," I squealed.

"And here?" he switched to the other leg, slapping even harder.

"Oh, fuck, yes, hurts," I begged.

"And here?" he asked, centering the blows, right on my pussy. He wasn't slapping nearly as hard, but was doing it faster.

"No no no no no," I panted with each fast strike, and with each "no," he increased the force behind the next blow.

"No no no no no," I said, and then he hit the pain point and it did hurt. "Yes yes yes," I was squealing, squirming, as he continued his rapid-fire assault on my genitals.

When he stopped, his fingers gently explored and found me soaking wet. "Ooooooooooh, what have we here?" he asked, his finger slipping inside and making me groan. "Does the fuck toy like to be played with? Does the fuck toy like to be used?"

"Yes sir," I whispered, arching into his touch.

"Good girl," he said. "Let's see what else you might like."

He climbed up over me, pulled off his shirt in front of me, and put his cock in front of my face, just out of reach of my mouth. I was panting. I am still stuffy and can't breathe well, so most of my breathing is through my mouth, but this was beyond just mouth-breathing. He was straddling my body, so I couldn't bend at the waist to lift up and take his cock in my mouth.

He rubbed it against my cheek, over my open lips. I licked it as it passed, groaning.

"You like that cock?" he asked roughly, already knowing the answer.

I moaned in response, lifting my head as best I could to lick it. He rubbed it against my other cheek, and humped against my face as if he was fucking it, just not quite letting his cock in my mouth. I groaned, and then he was pushing into my mouth, pressing his cock in as I moaned, pushing it in as far as he dared considering my sore throat. He pulled away for me to cough and breathe, and then he pushed in again, fucking my face slowly until I had to breathe, then giving me a moment for air again.

I can't quite put into words how hot it was for me that he was fucking my access to air, and he knew it.

He pressed in so deeply he was almost in my throat, pinning my head to the pillow, and I couldn't breathe. I could feel myself becoming wetter and wetter, and then he pulled away for me to cough, to haul in lungfuls of air.

"Poor fuck toy. You like sucking cock?"

I nodded desperately, as he rubbed his saliva-slick cock against my cheek while I panted for air.

"It's one of your favorite things, isn't it?" he said, shoving his cock back into my mouth.

I sucked, nodding slightly.

"I know. One day, you'll be able to have your face fucked without needing to cough, without needing to breathe. Won't that be nice?"

"Uh-huh," I grunted, as he pulled his cock away again for me to breathe.

He slid down my body then, and unceremoniously started to sink his hardness into my soaking wet pussy. I grunted as the head penetrated me - it felt enormous and I made a lot of noise.

"Good girl, take it, take me," he said, slowly, slowly pressing more into me. Slowly. So fucking slowly. I was writhing beneath him as he made his way into my body, making a lot of noise. He felt so incredible, stretching my internal walls apart, all the way down, and then he kept driving all the way through me, as if I wasn't there, pinning me thoroughly with his cock. I moved under him, squeezing my muscles around his hardness, relishing the feeling of being full of him. It was good. He pulled away slightly only to drive just as hard back down again, and then he was fucking me in earnest, pausing periodically to pin me down with both his cock and his gaze.

"Good fuck hole." My shuddery moan must have prodded him to keep talking, because he continued in the same vein. "This is what you're for, isn't it? For me to shove my cock into over, and over, and over." He accentuated each "over" with a hard thrust into my body that I gladly met, moaning with pleasure.

"Uh-huh," I agreed, out of my mind as we moved together.

"I give it to you and you just say 'thank you,' isn't that right, fuck toy?"

"Uh-huh," I agreed again, not processing what he was doing, the pleasure nerves that kept firing interfering with my normal brain function.

He drove into me, leaned his face down. One of my ears is dead right now, his lips were near my good ear. "Say thank you," he ordered roughly, his voice rasping along my ear canal all the way into my brain.

"Thank you," I whispered, breathless, and then, as if his command and the following words had unleashed some floodgate holding back my voice, I continued as we fucked. "Thank you, thank you, oh my God, thank you," I babbled, unable to hold it back.

"Good girl," he praised me through my babbling. "Are you thankful for my cock, fuck toy?" He drove it inside me and flexed for emphasis.

"Yes sir, ohmyGod, thank you." I was overwhelmed. I kept periodically babbling "Thank you, thank you," when he felt particularly amazing, his body moving against me. His hands grabbed my legs, pulled them up higher as he fucked down into me, and my eyes were rolling, open, closed, open. They caught his gaze once.

"That's right, fuck hole, look at me," he said. I did, as long as I could.

"Oh my God," I murmured, as his eyes burned heat into my soul and I couldn't stand it anymore - the pleasure was too great and my head rolled back, tossing as he kept fucking me. My hands roamed his back, pulling his hips into me hard when he allowed it. Sometimes he pulled away, lifting himself higher to slam into me with more force, but mostly he let me pull him close, our bodies merged and moving together.

His climax approached slowly, intensely. He was groaning for long moments as he came, as the pleasure washed over him. I glanced up at his face - if there ever was an image of bliss, it was his face at that moment.

Before he slid his fingers inside me and made me scream with pleasure over and over, as we lay tangled together, he whispered, breathlessly, "You forgive me for this afternoon?"

I laughed, loudly.

"No, that's not what this was about," he assured me, as he let his fingers take over the pleasure they had initiated so long ago.

---

Said to my friend, regarding holidays on my blog:

"Sometimes I just ignore these things and pretend they don't exist.
Unless we have special Thanksgiving-themed sex or something. Which would be hilarious
and I'm about to burst into laughter thinking about it."

Turns out, it's not so funny. It's actually insanely hot.

Control is a many-splendored thing

"Maybe you should do something violent to me," I suggested to my husband. I was tired, had been wanting to go back to bed ever since our little one woke us up far, far too early on a holiday morning. But we were in bed early and I didn't want my exhaustion to overtake me.

"Really?"

"Really." Nothing to keep a girl awake like having some consensual violence visited upon her person.

"I haven't done that in a while..."

"I know."

His hands that had previously been stroking me gently and running the silky tails of our blue flogger against my skin became weapons, targeting my breasts, my nipples. "MINE!" he barked as I whimpered, twisting beneath the blows and then arching up for more, "I will do whatever the hell I want to you!"

He rolled more toward me as I twisted away from him, my brain becoming more aroused with every crash of his hand into my sensitive breasts, my body trying to escape the onslaught of pain. His leg was on top of mine, his cock pressing into my hip. His hand wandered down, slapping into my thighs, pulling them apart forcibly when they tried to close against the pain, holding them open to hit me. I cried out especially loudly when he slapped my calf. "Oh, does that hurt, girl?"

"Yes sir," I whimpered between cries. I was crying out with every blow, and he was slowly humping my hip, making me feel his arousal.

"Good. You know what I think?" he asked, his hands never stopping their attack on my body, my calves, my thighs, my breasts, my forearms. "I think that you like attention of any kind. Pain's just another kind of attention for you, isn't it?"

"Yes sir," I panted.

"'Yes sir,'" he repeated, still slowly humping my hip. "Oooh, you feel my cock? That cock wants to fuck you. I want to fuck you. You know what that means? It means I will fuck you. I will do whatever the fuck I want." His hand came up between my spread legs and he slapped my pussy lightly, over and over until I was gasping. "You like that kind of attention too, don't you? Does this turn you on?" He stopped slapping me, his fingers gently probing the extra-sensitized flesh, sliding the tip of his finger easily into my wetness.

"Yeah, I see it does," he said, sliding his fingers against me, stroking my clit gently until I gasped with pleasure. He started slapping me again, unexpectedly. Oh, it hurt. I twisted to get away but his leg had mine trapped. Spread, helpless, owned. "Mine," he confirmed my thoughts as he continued slapping my sex. "Turn on your side so I can fuck you."

I was breathing heavily as I turned over, facing away from him. I lifted my leg over his hip, opening myself to him. He rocked his cock against my wetness, back and forth, teasing the head across my opening, bumping into my clit repeatedly. It felt lovely but I wanted him inside me. "Oh my God," I moaned.

"What is it, girl? You want something?"

"Yes sir."

"What is it you want?"

"Fuck me..." I breathed out, the words barely escaping my tightening throat.

He teased me a while longer, clearly enjoying my whimpered noises of frustration. The head of his cock lodged inside my opening, and I groaned, rotating my hips, pressing back onto him. He wasn't moving at all; I wasn't sure if he meant to tease me or meant for me to do something, so I did something. I wriggled, I squirmed, I backed onto his cock that felt fucking enormous, and groaned and sighed and whispered "oh, fuck," as I did it.

"Good girl, go on, take that cock," he said as I backed onto him, finally, finally managing to squeeze all of him into me.

"Can I help you?" he asked as I squeezed around him, relishing the fullness. He just stayed there, buried fully in me, letting me squeeze around him over and over. My answers were my continual moans of enjoyment.

"I see, you didn't want to be fucked, you just wanted a hard cock shoved up your pussy. There is a difference, you know," he murmured, his hand grabbing a handful of my hair and tugging, shoving himself extra hard into me.

I squirmed, but without his equal and opposite motions from the other side, the position we were in was no good for me to fuck him, just to wriggle insanely on his cock, like a specimen pinned for examination, legs spread, breasts exposed. His fingers stroked my clit. I was getting more and more aroused by my own inability to do anything.

"Are you trying to fuck me?" I just squirmed, my arousal growing more with his words, hearing the slight condescending tone he delicately applied to them. Oh, God, he's good at this. "Let me see if I can help you," he said, and moved his hips back, withdrawing slightly and then thrusting fully into me. I screamed with pleasure, with the release of the built-up tension. Oh, that was one fine-feeling thrust. He rocked his hips slowly, drawing the pleasure out for both of us. His hand gripped my throat, and then it was pressing on my face. I screamed. I love having my face covered, especially if it's by his hand. My breathing was slightly restricted, my pants becoming gasps, and I loved it, loved feeling his hand smashing out the very thing that people identify as "me," so that I was nothing but his. Oh, fuck, yes.

"Good fuck hole," he whispered, at the perfect moment to make me scream again, around the side of his hand. My racing thoughts of self-eradication collided with his words and a glorious brain-explosion occurred inside my head.

"You are my good fuck hole," he confirmed as my scream faded. His fingers slid inside me alongside his cock, stretching me.

"Oh, God, full," I whispered, as he thrust his cock into me, holding his fingers still, for an eternity of pleasure, riding the edge of pain.

"I like to fill up my slut," he agreed, moving faster. I could feel his fingers and his cock stretching me, rubbing ever so delicately against my anus the way my legs were spread for him. Oh, I needed to be fucked there.

"I want you in my ass," I ventured, softly.

"You want to feel this hard cock fucking your ass?" he asked, driving the point home as he thrust into my soaking pussy.

"Yessss," I hissed, pressing against him, taking him as deeply as I could.

"What a fucking slut," he spat out.

"Oh, oh, oh," I panted. "I'm your slut."

"You are my good slut," he said as he pulled his hand away, reaching behind us for the lube. He kept thrusting into me while he retrieved it, and when he pulled away I whimpered with the emptiness.

"It's okay, slut, I'm going to fuck you more." His words were interrupted by the squeeze of a nearly-empty tube of lube, a singularly unsexy sound. I forgot about it as he applied the lube to me, and then pressed the slippery, rounded head of his cock to my hole. He pressed; bounced off. I groaned, reaching back to hold his cock, to angle my hips and press against him just so.

"Take it, that's it, good girl," he whispered. I groaned loudly, rocking my hips against him in an echo of our earlier penetration. Oh it was even more intense, though. I rocked my hips, and slowly, slowly, my ass opened to him, taking him inside. I relaxed briefly once he was all the way in, and he started moving, gently at first. His hand moved to my open pussy. "So fucking wet," he said, sinking fingers into my pussy, his thumb working at my clit as he thrust into me.

I was stretched between his cock and his fingers, my legs wide open, my body at his mercy.

"So full of you," I whispered between groans and sighs of pleasure.

"You are my collection of fuck holes, aren't you?" he asked sharply, his fingers twisting.

I screamed.

His hand started slapping my pussy while he moved in my ass. I'm sure it made it a more exciting fuck, as I squirmed, wriggled, and screamed. Already so sensitive, so full of blood, and he was slapping me there. "Oh oh, I'm a good slut," I begged softly as he continued hitting me.

His fingers were back inside me when he came, pressing his cock deeply into me and spilling his seed into my bowels, moaning deeply with satisfaction. I do so love hearing him sound so pleased, but I didn't have very long to relish it.

He kept working on my clit, kept thrusting into my ass, his other hand grabbing a handful of my hair. I began to convulse upward, my head raising up, my knees lifting. He tightened his grip on my hair, forcing my head to stay down, forcing the intensity to stay in my body rather than to release through the convulsion. "You're not going anywhere, slut. You'll stay right here and take it."

I did. Every time my head tried to rise, he yanked it back down by my hair. I trembled with unreleased tension. I screamed. I came, a great, shuddery wave of orgasm crashing over me, brought on almost exclusively by the violent control he was exerting. Well, and the fingers. Of course the magic fingers.

My breast hurt all day today. Somehow, I'm okay with that.

---

I know there's a challenge on, and that I'm somewhat of a CWS slacker... and a blog slacker! I had to get this post written, which means very few other things got to happen online. I SIMPLY HAD TO WRITE THIS. Sorry, y'all.

---

And further. My husband says he is in the process of writing out a post about the filthy sex talking. Just for you guys.

Finally flogged

I posted my blue and white flogger a while ago, the one that I gifted to my husband. It was only this week that we finally got around to more than a perfunctory test flogging with it. In fact, someone else bought, received, and used one just like it before we ever got around to using ours. But it was worth the wait.

I loved it. The knots were perfect, thudding into my flesh, bouncing away. The ends were silky soft; he even used it as a tickler to make me moan with pleasure. He worked my ass and the backs of my thighs to a rosy glow that I could feel, and then he applied the spoon deliciously, making me squirm, writhe, generally having an awesome time while little gasps and moans emerged from my mouth.

He followed the spoon with the crop, tap-tap-tapping little bites all over, and it was just a fabulous spanking. I was panting when he finished, trailing the ends of the flogger over my sensitive skin. While what he said next was a little bit of a surprise, it shouldn't have been. "Turn over and suck my cock. You're not the only one who likes to feel good, you know."

I drew a ragged breath, pulling oxygen into my lungs, gathering the physical strength to turn over. After the flogging, the spoon, and the crop, I needed a moment to collect myself. I turned over slowly, moving down as I did, and his cock was in my face. I opened my mouth and pressed a hot, wet kiss to it, relishing the velvety feel of his foreskin against my face. Oh, right, I love sucking his cock. I moaned softly as I slid my mouth onto him, and my brain disengaged. Just sucking, listening to his words, rolling my tongue, working my throat.

In my excitement I kept tugging on his hips, drawing him as far into me as I could, and one of the tugs had him over my face, kneeling above me and fucking down into my mouth. "What a good fuckhole your face is for me," he said, tugging on my hair, his hands pressing down on my forehead, leaving me unable to do anything but take his hardness. I moaned at the helplessness of the position, at his words, my hands flopping uselessly off to the side, unsure what to do with themselves until they landed on his thighs. I squeezed his legs as he fucked my face.

"Is your pussy ready to be fucked?" he asked me roughly, the head of his cock moving slowly in the entrance of my throat, soft gagging noises coming from me due to the motion. I managed to turn one of the noises into a fervent positive.

"You think you can get on the ramp and be fucked?"

"Nnnnn," I said around the cock filling my mouth. Late, tired, ugh.

"Of course you can," he answered for me, ignoring my actual response. He pulled away and I chased his cock with my mouth. "Cockslut, it's really hard for you to let go of that cock, isn't it?" I groaned, pinned by his words, letting my head fall back again. He stood next to the bed, put the Liberator ramp on it, and I went after his shiny hard cock with my mouth again, moaning happily as this position put more of his cock in me with less stress. He pulled my hair, fucking my face, eliciting squeals of delight that vibrated all along the length of his hardness. "You think you're clever, don't you? This isn't your pussy."

He pulled me into him, forcing more and more of his cock into my willing throat. It burned as it opened my throat even more than it had previously. "Turn around and let me fuck your pussy now," he ordered, thrusting into my face a few final times.

I turned around slowly, my muscles resisting as I lifted my ass, presenting my pussy for his penetration. He sank inside me with a long, slow stroke and we groaned in unison. "Oh, fuck, yes," I gasped as he filled me, stretching me open.

Pleasure. Pure pleasure, enhanced by the slight amount of pain being stretched so far, pounded so hard, overtook me, and I was a constant moan, "Oh fuck," escaping from me with every other breath.

His hands found their way underneath my torso and he slapped my breasts, first one then the other. "Mine!" he said when I moaned with delighted pain, perhaps a touch of indignity coloring my tone.

"Yours," I agreed, whether loudly or softly I had no way of gauging. My arms gave out after an extended period, and I dropped to my elbows, my ass still lifted high for his cock to slide into my pussy.

"Oooh, I should fuck this ass," he mused, running his thumb across my hole that must have been exposed due to the position I was in. I groaned, both excited and a little concerned by the prospect. "Shouldn't I? You want that don't you? Of course you do," he answered his own question as I continued groaning, overwhelmed. "Get me the lube."

I moved to do so, but as I moved the ramp tried to fall over. "Nuh-uh," I murmured, trying to adjust myself so the ramp stayed on the bed. "What you mean, nuh-uh? Get the lube!" he repeated himself. I did, returning, still dealing with the problem and making muttery noises. "Too much complaining!"

"This is falling," I whispered.

"Fix it, then," he said, squeezing lube onto his fingers. I planted my feet on the floor, pressing my ass into his cock as I wriggled to move the ramp back into place. He humped against me, making me moan. His fingers were lubing my ass even as I climbed back up into the hands-and-knees position.

As his cock penetrated my ass, I fell forward, crying out. It wasn't even an overwhelming sensation, just my own fear that it would be. "Get up," he barked, and something else I couldn't hear for my breathing was heavy, catching in my chest and coming out in gasps, I was so terribly excited that I could only hear half the things he was saying.

Then he was buried in my ass, pulling my hair back toward him with one hand, his other hand pressing and squeezing my throat, making me gasp with arousal. Oh, wow. "Oh, fuck," I kept keening softly as we rocked together, my ass stretched taut around his cock that was so engorged I hadn't been able to believe it when I was sucking it.

He came loudly, nearly collapsing against my back, pulling me up into him. I breathed heavily, great gasps of air filling my lungs. Eventually we managed to shove the ramp away and curl up into each other, whispering words of appreciation for one another.

He is magnificent, even though I lack the time to write about it all the time, and I am so grateful.

How I fell in love with the wooden spoon

Yeah, you read that right.

I was grouchy. We're tired a lot, having a hard time adapting to shifting schedules, and I was in my submissive shutdown mode. My husband was waiting in bed and I was reading some random blog by someone I don't even know.

"Come to bed, my girl," he told me, standing naked, or nearly so, in the bedroom's door frame.

I waited a few minutes and then I did. I like obeying even when I don't think anything will come of it, even when my internal voice is telling me this is all stupid, that this game we play is clearly ridiculous and why are we even doing this? It's quite conflicted, living inside my head.

He grabbed me as I came into bed, pulling me against him. "Mine!" he said, not even letting me adjust my position. He held me against his chest and we talked, our voices low in the night.

Eventually he told me to turn over onto my belly, and he rubbed my back, adding a good scratch at my request. God, I love for him to scratch my back. I swear it's like magic. After all these years he knows exactly how much pressure to apply to make me groan with the release of perfectly scratched back skin.

"Give me your wrists," he said, tugging my hands behind my head. I bent my elbows and put my wrists together behind my neck. He slid the soft cuffs onto me, clicking them together and holding my hands in place. I moaned softly as I felt it, my submissive nature fully freed as soon as my movement was genuinely restricted.

"Whose are you?" he asked, close to my head.

"Yours," I whispered into the pillow.

"Whose?" he asked again, perhaps not having heard me, perhaps just to drive the point home.

"Yours," I said again, a little louder.

"And do you like to be mine?"

"Mmhmm!" I responded.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes!" I am definitely sure about that.

"You wouldn't prefer to just be my equal?"

"Noooo," I said.

"You like being my plaything? You like pleasing me? You like me using you?" His hands wandered over my back, my ass, my legs as he spoke.

"Yes," I answered softly to each question.

"Anything else? Or have I about covered it?"

"I think you got it."

I felt the soft tickler brush over my back, down my ass. "I like making you feel good," he said as I sighed softly with the gentle caress. The next thing he stroked me with was the smooth edge of our wooden spoon. I inhaled sharply, fear overtaking me. Oh, he can make that hurt so badly. He  didn't, though, just tapped lightly with it, my fear releasing with each gentle tap against my skin.

He built it up slowly, covering my ass with little taps, then again with slightly heavier ones, and again, each time increasing the strength of his swing. It felt incredible and it went on for what seemed like forever.

I was moaning deeply, screaming with pleasure, lifting my ass up to meet the spoon.

"Oh, my girl likes that," he noted aloud, with a detached-sounding sort of interest. "Maybe I should stop." He did, briefly, not spanking me anymore.

"Oh, no," I pleaded.

"What's that, my girl? What do you want me to do?"

I was silent while I processed his question. "Spank me?"

"You want me to spank you with this wooden spoon?"

"Oh, yes."

"Okay then." He started again and it was brilliant. I raised up so high that he had easy access to the backs of my thighs, and he hit those too. I was soaring, each strike seeming to hit some sort of sweet spot inside me that released groan after groan of deep pleasure and fulfillment. I have never imagined I could feel so good from having that spoon applied to any part of me.

His hand followed the spoon and I was squirming, doing my best to get away, my backside unbelievably tenderized from the application of the spoon. "Mine, mine, mine!" he said with each impact of his hand on my rosy flesh. I lifted my ass even higher in the air, his chant of ownership flooding me with pleasure and the desire to please, and his hand was wrapping around and slapping my pussy at the same time. Oh, fuck, yes.

Several times during the entire spanking process I thought I might orgasm just from the feelings crashing over me. I was very, very vocal in my appreciation.

He stopped, pulling me over onto my side against him. "I'm going to fuck you," he announced into my ear, pulling my legs apart and sliding his fingers between them. I shivered as his voice traveled  into my  brain, the vibrations along my ear canal making me sigh with pleasure, the sound of his words striking glee into my heart.

But then his hand was moving, slapping my nipple. "Oh!" I cried out, surprised, arching my breast into his hands. He rained blows onto my nipples then, making me scream for what seemed an eternity. Oh, God. I writhed against him, feeling his hard cock pressing against my sensitized ass, thankfully unable to escape the blows as I backed into his body. He was spanking me deeper and deeper against him.

"I'm going to fuck you," he repeated softly. He pulled my legs open again, and then he was spanking my thighs. His fingers slid inside me easily. "Oh, my girl gets so wet from having her nipples slapped," he said into my ear. I shivered. I do. I can't help it. He pressed his cock against my pussy, rocking his hips.

"Oh, please fuck me," I broke down, begging.

"You want this cock?" he asked. He fisted his cock, sliding just the head inside me, his hand stopping more from going inside. I squirmed against him, trying to take more.

"Easy, girl," he whispered, his voice rough with passion. I tried to lunge back onto him, but his hand was in the way. "You'll get as much cock as I want you to have," he said roughly, his other hand squeezing my shoulder. I stilled, trembling, wanting to feel him buried all the way inside me, to feel his body pressed completely against mine. God. He is such a fucking tease.

I made a whiny noise. "Good girl," he said, pressing a little deeper into me. My pussy squeezed his cock in welcome and I tilted my hips, rocking just so slightly back onto him. He took the invitation and sank all the way in. I think we both groaned.

He started rocking with me, his hand returning to slapping my nipples as we moved. Oh, I was done for, and then his other hand was grabbing handfuls of my hair and squeezing, holding, then releasing and moving to a new handful, his voice ever present in my ear, telling me I was a good fuck hole, that I belonged to him, calling me a good girl, making me scream, groan, twist. Oh. Oh, yes. I couldn't have asked for a better fuck, and I had been a grouchy annoyance. Oh, hell, does he ever know how to set me straight. Or kinky.

And now I can't wait until he uses that fucking spoon again.

Some other beginning's end

Every new beginning comes from one, you know. This night was one of the ending ones: my mom's last night here in our apartment with us before she goes back to the other side of the country.

My husband's been playing with me without a lot of pain lately - spankings turned to love taps, although thankfully the nipple pinching never went anywhere. I was beginning to feel that he thought pain was the only way to turn me on. It's not. I like lots of things, pain just happens to be one. When he started flogging my ass last night by gently smacking the flogger against my skin, and it made a pathetic little "flup," sound, I giggled.

"What? That's funny?" He did it again.

I giggled again. "I can barely even feel that!"

"Oh, huh. I thought you didn't want any pain."

"Husband, let me tell you something. It's going to be pretty hard to hurt me there."

"I see. As opposed to your thighs?" he confirmed.

"Mmhmm," I giggled again as he let the flogger flup against my backside once more. The giggle dissolved into a deep moan when he brought the flogger down with more force, feeling incredible as it thudded heavily against my body. He kept that up, actually bringing it down harder and harder, and I began to squirm as the delicious thumps built heat and sensitivity into my skin. He paused for breaks now and then, trailing the soft rope ends of the flogger over my ass, hearing my soft moans of pleasure from the delicate sensation.

His hand crashed into my ass, hard, making me jump. He did it again, swapping sides, and again.

"Oh, God, you can actually leave my ass there," I whispered. It felt like he was trying to eradicate it.

"I thought it would be hard to hurt you here?" he asked, landing another smack down just as hard.

"That is hard, love," I explained, jumping at the contact as he rubbed gently over the inflamed skin.

"I see," he said, and let his blows become a little less like anvils, a little more like hands. I resumed my happy moaning and wriggling.

He had me turn over after a while, pulling my legs open, gently slapping my spread thighs and my pussy until I arched up into his touch. Oh, the fire he was building was going to be spectacular when it was lit. "Mine!" he whispered at intervals as his open hand slapped into my delicate parts, making me groan each time.

He moved suddenly, his face between my spread thighs, and his tongue was working against my clit as his fingers slipped inside my pussy, pressing into my g-spot, making me buck and moan. His lips pressed against mine afterward and I responded gleefully, licking and sucking his lips that tasted and smelled of me.

"I am going to shove something in your ass." He paused for effect, then continued: "Then I'm going to make you suck my cock. Because I can. Because I want to."

He took out a plug and the lube, pushing me over gently onto my stomach again, lubing me for the invasion.

"It's a little cold. But it's okay, you'll warm it up," he assured me as he slipped the plug inside me. This was the Mood Naughty, a lot smaller and easier to accept than the Big End.

That's when he started the pleasure, the endless rolling waves of pleasure that crashed over me. My hair eventually worked itself all around my face, forming a net that caught my panted breath as surely as any more solid barrier. Steam built against my face as I writhed under the movements of his hand on my clit, inside me, pressing against my g-spot, teasing the base of the plug. I screamed, over and over, and could not get enough air. My hands moved to wipe the hair out of my face but they kept stopping to claw at the sheets, to slap against the bed. My screams bled into deep, satisfied moans as my body lifted, curling against the onslaught and then back down into his unrelenting touch.

"This," I panted, several orgasms in, "Oh, God, this is not... oh, god, this is not what getting your cock sucked looks like."

"Oh, I know," he responded smoothly, deftly bringing another orgasm, enjoying the way I curled, whether into it or against it, the way that I vibrated helplessly under the spell he wove with his magical fingertips. "This is all still part of shoving something in your ass. Thanks for the reminder, though." His voice rose slightly so I could hear him over my own pants and squeals, over the sound my open palms kept making when they slapped against the mattress.

"Is my girl ready to suck my cock?" he asked softly as my screams quieted and my breathing returned to a less ragged state. I nodded, my face still lost in the steamy cage created by my fallen hair. "Does she need a minute?" he asked, as I lay there, unmoving except for the rise and fall of the deep breaths I was taking. "I don't think I want to give her a minute. I want my cock sucked now. Come on, girl."

I inhaled roughly as I brushed the hair away from my face, the damp strands clinging to my hot skin. The cooler air of the bedroom rushed against my flushed face and it felt heavenly as I moved, turning on my side and scooting down so my face was even with his gorgeous cock. I filled my lungs with fresh air, with the newly clean scent of him, and I moaned as I sucked his cock into my mouth, swirling my tongue, using my lips to gently tug at his foreskin as he slid all the way to the back of my throat.

"Oh, yes, that's a good, good cocksucker," he praised me, causing another moan to rise from the depths of my being. Oh, yes, I do love being his good cocksucker. My deep moan around his cock was accompanied by a renewed surge of sucking, harder, deeper, gagging ever so slightly as he passed the entrance of my throat. My hands pulled his ass to me, stroked his balls, and we moved together, a timeless dance punctuated by our mutual sounds of pleasure and the occasional gag from me. I poured every ounce of the devotion that I feel toward him, of my appreciation for the pleasure he had already granted me, into my actions.

He was loud. He moaned repeatedly when he came, his hands tugging on my hair, pulling my head close to him. I rejoiced in his loudness as I struggled to swallow the copious amounts of seed he spilled into my mouth, down my throat. I suckled gently at his cock as it softened, whispering to him how perfectly it is formed, how much I love touching him there.

I finally left him alone and scooted up, his arms going around me automatically, his hand cupping my face as our lips met in a final kiss before sleeping.

Midnight cuddles

I wound up chatting to a friend last night far, far longer than I probably should have, but I was enjoying myself. My peeps and I spent the entire day out acting like tourists in San Francisco (along with everyone else in the world, it seemed), and we were pretty wiped. I finished up talking to my friend, and even though it was already past midnight, I took a quick bath. Once I was fresh, clean, and dry again, I climbed between our sheets, not even bothering with the pretense of clothing.

My husband is so excited about the Curiosity rover landing tonight that he was up all that time reading about it. He came to join me in bed a little after I slipped between the sheets, and he was vocal about his appreciation of my nudity. "Oooh, I have an amazing wife who gets into the bed all naked and lets me touch her everywhere," he murmured as his hands slid along my back and legs. He pulled me to him, spooning me tightly, and his fingers worked magic designs into my flesh, lingering at my nipples, delicately drawing a line of goosebumps down my arm, my side. He stroked my waist with a touch that made me groan loudly and my eyes roll back in my head.

Still, though, it was late and we were exhausted. I snuggled against him as I sighed and moaned, assuming he was just enjoying himself a little before sleep, when I felt his hardness pressing against me. I turned toward him and we kissed. His fingers kept making me moan loudly, tracing patterns of ecstasy into the small of my back as his lips tangled with mine.

"You're mine," he whispered against my lips, as his hand slapped against my ass lightly. I murmured my agreement. His hand slapped me there again, not enough to hurt, just enough to register as pleasurable, and he moved his hand to do the same to my nipples. "My girl, mine," his voice slipped into my ear, making me quake with desire even as my brain fought for slumber.

"How do you have all this energy, my love?" I asked him softly as I struggled to keep my eyes open.

"It's my love for you," he murmured against my lips.

His fingertips slapped lightly against my nipples and I purred. It felt lovely, it felt like I was owned, it felt like love. His light slaps gave way to gentle tugging strokes, and he asked "Would my girl like to suck that cock?" when he felt my hand pressing against his hardness.

I nodded against his chest. "Mmhmm," I whispered, wetting my lips with my tongue.

"Okay, then, I will allow it."

His groans as I swirled my tongue across his cock while slowly sliding my mouth down over it were music to my ears. "Oh, my girl is such a good, good cocksucker," he praised me as his hands stroked my hair. He tugged it sharply once in a while, making me moan around the hard flesh filling my mouth, keeping me alert enough to pleasure him. As tired as we were, I knew we'd be asleep soon, but I wanted to feel his body tense and release into me. I wanted to hear his groans of pleasure before I fell asleep.

I got what I wanted - his leg over my neck tensed and his hips moved faster as I struggled to keep up with the speed he needed. He was coming in my mouth, groaning with the pleasure of it, and I moaned happily as I sucked it down, knowing I had done well and made him feel good.

As I pulled my mouth away afterwards, nuzzling my face against his softened cock and kissing it gently, he said "Whoa. I'm suddenly very, very tired."

"I bet you are, my love," I responded, glancing at the clock. It was 1:30 AM.

He pulled me up into his arms and we slept really, really well.

Chopstick spanking and sex

I started playing with a beautifully finished bamboo chopstick earlier in the afternoon, and on a whim, added it to our toy drawer.

One of these. From Daiso.

He took it out when we went to bed, and, holding my wrist tightly so I couldn't pull my arm away, whacked it against my inner forearm until it was covered in red stripes. After a few strikes I started trying to pull away, because that's how long it took it to start really, really burning. "Oh look," he said as I whimpered, burying my face against his chest, "it's getting all red up here."

Long minutes of tiny whacks of that chopstick against my inner arm elapsed, each tiny sound followed by a much louder one of mine, but he finally stopped, pushing up my nightshirt, and starting to flap flap flap the tiny stick on my breast, all over. It felt good at first, but as his little flaps started landing on my nipple with more regularity, I began to writhe, make more noises, and try to get away. Oh, it hurt. But I loved it.

As my complaints got louder and my struggles more pronounced, he brought out the wide plastic ruler, and hit me with it all over my breast. "Isn't that worse?" he asked. I nodded, screaming loudly as it landed straight on my already-abused nipple. "So you shouldn't complain," he concluded, "about this." He started tapping the chopstick against my nipple again.

"It's time to experiment. Which is worse? Ruler to the breast?" he asked, as he landed the ruler on the lower slope of my breast right under my nipple, making me jump and whimper a little, "or chopstick to the nipple?" I screamed as the chopstick hit me right on my nipple, arching to get away from it. "Oooh, I think the nipple."

"Yes, yes," I said, panting, trying hard to catch my breath.

"But it's harder to land this right on your nipple," he said, doing it again, making me cry out yet again.

"Oh, look, you have another nipple."

"No, no," I frantically denied.

"You do too!" he said, stroking it with his fingers, drawing it into his mouth, the pleasure circuits overriding my good sense and causing me to turn my body, to offer him more of my breast. He whacked the ruler into the other one while he sucked and nibbled, so I was sighing with pleasure and grunting with pain all at the same time.

---

So, how to even describe what came after all the breast torment?

His cock was so hard. But he wouldn't give it to me.

"I dunno what's gotten into me," he said as he kept torturing me, making me scream, writhe. At one point I stopped moving entirely, the intensity of the feelings coursing through me leading to a complete stillness that I learned afterward made him worry he was giving me a heart attack.

"A sadist," I responded.

"Maybe," he said, then, as his hand collided with my breast, "you know what's going to get into you?"

"Mmmf," I cried out at the impact, "your cock?" I asked hopefully.

He chuckled softly. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he said, twisting my nipple.

I just nodded as he slipped his fingers between my legs, dragging the tips through my wetness, sliding against my clit, eliciting gasps and groans. I arched up against his touch, wanting more. "If I gave you my cock, I'd have to fuck you." His fingers kept circling around my wet parts, making me groan.

"Not technically," I gasped out, writhing.

"Mmm, you're right. But it's awfully hard to not fuck you when my cock is inside you."

His fingers pressed deeply inside me; he was half on top of me, making me feel pinned and helpless as he pleasured me. I looked up at him and he was looking at my face already, then into my eyes, the intensity of his stare penetrating me every bit as much as his fingers were. "Oh, I like to watch you while I make you squirm. Yeah, baby, submit to me," he said as he held my gaze, his fingers pressing into my g-spot over and over, making my mouth open in a cry even as we looked into each other's eyes.

My eyes closed again and my hips danced, my breath coming quicker, my limbs vibrating as the pleasure he was generating in my core spread outward, lapping at all my nerve endings, setting me aflame. "Oh, yeah, there you go. Come for me, baby," he said, his hand moving faster, faster, the sensations causing me to spiral out of control. My body lifted off the bed, just my shoulders and heels pressing into it, pressing me into him.

He climbed atop me, finally, his cock pressing against my wetness. "Just orgasm isn't enough for you, if you don't get the cock too, is that right? Cockslut," he whispered, sinking his hardness into me, making us both groan with pleasure as he filled me up.

My legs were all over the place, spending a fair bit of time in each position: flat, knees raised up on either side of him, legs straight up, legs up with knees bent, holding my feet, and then my ankles on his shoulders. He never stopped thrusting into me despite all the changing positions, though the speed with which we rocked into each other changed. With my ankles on his shoulders, I felt his cock throb inside me even more. I opened my eyes to see his handsome face framed by my feet, looking at me, his blue-eyed stare of pure sex making me cry out at the intensity of it. Looking at him during sex is scorchingly, nearly unbearably, hot. I can't handle it for very long.

He leaned down, folding me in half, and kissed me hotly, continuing to fuck me, slow, fast, slow. I made all the noises you might expect - screams, gasps, groans and "Oh my God"s. Oh, he felt incredible.

We changed positions again. I wrapped my legs around him and squeezed him as we rocked.

---

Eventually he decided I should suck his cock.

"Does your pussy want a break? Would you like to suck my cock?"

My pussy did not want a break. But. "I would like to suck your cock," I managed to vocalize, breathless as I was.

"Mmm, that's right, you would. Because you're a cocksucker, aren't you?"

His words excited me and I arched up into him. He drove into me hard, circling his hips, grinding, forcing more little screams out of me. "Does just thinking about sucking my cock make you more excited and want to be fucked?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," I whispered, grinding my own pelvis up into him, relishing the sensations as our bodies slid against each other.

"You're a complicated girl, aren't you?" he asked as he withdrew with a suddenness that left me squealing with disappointment. He lay on his back and I dove after his cock with my mouth, sucking my juices off of him, licking all around the head.

"No, no. Greedy little thing. Get me that ramp to lie on first," he said.

I whined, giving him a slurping suck as I pulled my head away to get the Liberator ramp for him to rest against. "I know, you just want to suck the cock."

I put the ramp on the bed next to him and he moved to rest against it, giving him the perfect incline to watch while I sucked his cock. At first I straddled his knees, raising and lowering myself onto his cock using my arms, but eventually I found myself between his legs, his legs over my shoulders, his feet resting on my ass, his hands tangled in and tugging on my hair. His legs squeezed around my head once in a while, taking my breath away. I had the head of his cock resting in the entrance of my throat, and he pushed on my head, hard, gagging me. A thrill raced through me and I screamed, kicking my legs, my arms shaking. "Mmhmm!" I said.

"Oh, you like that?" he asked, doing it again to the same effect. He took my head then, pulling it up by his tight grip on my hair until his cock was only halfway in my mouth, and he held my head there, not letting me move, while he fucked up into me. I kicked and screamed loudly, my entire body shaking as he fucked my face. "Are you having an orgasm from having your face fucked?" he asked me, sounding surprised and amused even as he kept doing it. I shook my head as best I could considering the hard flesh keeping my mouth mostly centered. Not quite orgasm, but so fucking hot that I was having a hard time bearing it, containing the thrill within my body.

When he stopped, I pulled my mouth off his cock, looking up at him, rubbing my cheek against his hardness, kissing it to give my mouth a break. I'd forgotten he was reclining on the ramp and when I looked up at him, there his blue sex laser beams were, driving right into my soul. I moaned.

"Have you sucked all the juices off my cock now?"

I nodded, licking along the side of his cock, down to his balls, because they don't get enough attention.

"Probably time to give you a rest then," he said. "What's a nice, restful way I can fuck you?" he mused, mostly to himself. I just kept licking his balls, stroking his thighs with my hand, sliding up and slowly taking his cock back in my mouth, then going back to the ball sucking. "I could lay you down here and fuck you from behind. Yeah, I'll do that." He paused, making pleased noises as I sucked him hard and deep. "After I put you up on this ramp and fuck you from behind," he concluded. I whimpered.

"Ooh, and then I could fuck your ass." I groaned at the sound of that. The ideas were clearly coming at the man hard and fast. Having his cock sucked must cause creative bursts. I'm pretty sure he was gauging the intensity of my reactions with his pauses. "Or I could shove the plug in you and then fuck you from behind!" I whimpered again, a muffled little scream. I was running my tongue over his balls. "You like that, huh?" he said.

"Full," I said.

"Yeah, you like being full." He gathered the plug and lube from the drawer next to him while I sucked his cock. "But I don't think I can reach your ass from here," he said.

"Nuh-uh," I said, continuing to suck.

"You'd better turn around then," he prodded me verbally. I rotated, raising up on my hands and knees, keeping his cock in my mouth. He moaned; I guess it felt good the way I was moving. Then there was lube, and then his finger, and I was groaning all around his cock.

"Keep sucking," he ordered as he started to push the plug in me.

But I couldn't. I tried, as he slowly invaded me with that monster, but I couldn't. I screamed around his cock for a while at first, and then I pulled away to lay flat, clinging to his calf, kissing it between my moans as he continued slowly sliding that plug into my ass. I rocked my hips and screamed, doing my best not to kick as well, as it passed the largest part of the plug and locked inside me.

"Good girl," he said, pressing against the flat base of it, rubbing my ass for a moment before he got up and stood on the floor next to the bed. He moved the ramp to angle up to him, to raise our bed so I could get up on it on all fours and be fucked. I was sitting up next to it, moaning, kind of dazed from everything that had happened so far. "Get up there!" he told me, shaking me out of my daze with his words. I crawled up onto the ramp.

His slid along my hips and back as his cock forged a path into my pussy, made smaller and tighter by the plug stuffed into my ass and the position I was in. A soft keening wail emerged from me, and it seemed to just keep coming as we moved, providing a backdrop of sound to our activities, interrupted by our moans and sighs and grunts.

I've lost most of what happened next.

I remember:

Him pulling my hair, pulling my head back toward him.

My arms trembling, dropping to my elbows, and his hands in my hair pulling my back up to my hands, making me scream with the unbelievable way this action punched me in the gut, making me even wetter than I already was.

His cock pounding me slowly as his hands crept under my short, loose shirt to cup my breasts and then squeeze and tug on my nipples.

A stream of "Oh my God" that I just could not stop saying, even when I heard myself and realized I had said it at least a dozen times.

Him deciding it had been enough for that position, and abruptly removing himself from me, causing me to back onto nothing and grunt with the lack of him.

Him finally pulling my shirt off me as he slid his cock back into my pussy, lying behind me in the spoons position.

I don't remember him coming, but I know he did.

I remember half a dozen orgasms or so brought to me courtesy of his fingers.

I remember that he talked, but not what he said, only that it was so hot he melted my ability to recall it.

I rolled into his arms afterward, resting my head on his chest, gasping for breath, talking about how amazing that had been, how incredibly lucky I am to have him. We talked for a long time, just letting our hands wander over each other. The plug started to hurt and he told me to remove it, so I did. We talked so long that I felt him getting hard again.

---

"I want to fuck you again."

"Mmm, yes, that's an excellent idea. You want me to turn over?"

"That would be good."

"So wet," he said as he slid his cock back inside me. "How'd you get so wet? You just stay wet, don't you?"

I remember more about this. I remember how huge he felt, seeming to feel every bump and ridge as he slid inside me. I was deliciously sore from the previous use - just enough to heighten the sensation. I remember doing a lot of talking myself, about how amazing he felt inside me, about how much I love for him to take me, to use me. "Yes, yes, oh, fuck, yes," I said as I felt him start to empty himself inside me.

I am one lucky, lucky girl.